Over a month ago I began plans to make paintings in my studio referencing the murder of Ahmaud Arbery who was shot by two white men, his own neighbors, while he was going on a regular jog. They hunted him down because they thought he fit the description of a house robber. The description meaning being black, which is warrant enough for your murder in this country.
Three weeks ago when I watched the video of George Floyd's murder in broad daylight, with overwhelming urges from onlookers to stop, by officers sworn to protect him, I wanted to channel my grief into something more than a quickly imposing downward spiral. I felt if I was going to make art, it had to be more than a pretty picture to be consumed.
I believe commercial galleries can nurture the creation of unimaginative and unchallenging art because structurally most are not built to reward innovation but what is most readily profitable. I don't want to make work which will only be seen by the gallery going type, owned only by the wealthy, or made to confront only those who already agree with me. I decided to take my portraits of Ahmaud off the metaphorical easel bound for the gallery and into the street.
It took me less than ten hours over the course of three days to paint. It's titled "west, when the sunrise and the sunset look the same", made with spray paint, oil paint, and acrylic on plywood over Sandy's Bar at 14th and O St. This is the first of two pieces, this one an image of death, the next an image of the sunrise, of the son rise. Together they represent the similarity between worship and death both being acts of arm high surrender: images of a universe I question there is a context where black people are safe whether it's a domestic street or a church pew.
This work is about black excellence, about a literal suit which functions as armor which will be in the next painting. About the excellence demanded of black men and black people to dress better than the next mediocre white American, to work harder than them, to speak better, all because without this we are seen as subhuman; an excellence which even in our pursuit of, even in Ahmaud's jog, could not fully protect him.
This work is up for auction at https://lnkartauction.com/shop/when-the-sunrise-and-the-sunset-look-the-same-west/ to support the Clyde Malone Community Center, a non profit which has served the black community in Lincoln, Nebraska for over a hundred years and the Black Leader Movement which emerged in response to the urgency of this moment in civil rights history to once and for all create a city and policies which affirm black lives matter.